Hostel Musings

Kirsty asked me to come in early today--noon to be precise, which means that by the time10 o'clock rolls around tonight, I'll have worked ten hours (yay, I can do math!). That's a long time. Moreover, that's a long time to sit behind a desk during slow season when there's nothing to do.

Consequently, for the sake of not dying of boredom, I've made myself a to-do list for the day:

1. Upload pictures from Brian's camera onto my Facebook. Come up with witty/clever captions and album title.
2. Read Satanic Verses for one hour...Must. Use. Brain.
3. Somehow create handwritten thank-you note to family friends for received care package from home. Use highlighters and red pen to the best of my creative ability. 
4. Download and play Snood. If bored, resort to Text Twist.
5. Close up shop for a bit to deposit paycheck at the bank. 
6. On the way back from bank, grab chocolate croissant from next-door cafe.
7. Take an LSAT quiz. 
8. Stretch my now very sore post-surfing arms. Take at least 30 minutes to do this, so that by the end able to once again lift arms over head.
9. Research potential activities for New Zealand.
10. Respond to emails. 
11. Email Jake about surf pics from yesterday. 
12. Blog...Check.
13. Sort and alphabetize notices on notice board. Color code by subject if particularly bored.
14.  Start a running tally of the number of times I hear people say "mate."
15. Play more Snood.

Hostel Musings

Supposedly there's another girl in Bondi Beach who looks like me. Supposedly we "could be sisters." Supposedly she works just down the street as a waitress at the delicious tapas restaurant Mojos. Supposedly the only differences between us are two-fold: 1) she's Brasilian, while as I, clearly, am not; 2) her eyebrows are painted on, while as mine are " naturally natural."

Nine people have told me this. Nine. (And yes, I do pride myself on my eyebrows that actually have brows. So I suppose that's cool.)

Thrift Store Treasures

I should have posted this ages ago...While shopping in an Auckland, NZ thrift store ("opp shop"), I came across this little gem:

It's a small world, huh? A 1970's (or very early '80s) Stanford football jersey/sweatshirt.

Note: How do I know it's from the 1970's? I know this because of the "Stanford Cardinals" printed on the front. After the removal of the "Indians" mascot in 1972, Stanford adopted the nickname "Cardinals." The color, not the bird. Odd, I know. It wasn't until 1981 that the plural form was converted to singular--to what we now know as the "Stanford Cardinal."

Oh, USA!

Today has been one of those days. Some might call it "homesick," but I prefer the term "home-nostalgic, " as I'm neither sick, nor do I feel sick. I don't even feel particularly sad, for that matter. Just, well, nostalgic. In other words, I often bemoan the fact that I've put one giant ocean between myself and all the people I love.

So yeah, today has been one of those days--one of those days where everything seems to remind me of home. A few examples:


8:00am -- I receive the most recent email in a chain of emails written to and from the four other members of my family. It concerns a witty conversation that has taken place over the past few days pertaining to the benefits of eggs. (You had to be there...). My family makes me laugh. LOL. No, seriously, I actually laugh out loud. I miss them a little bit more than usual.

8:05am -- Catch up with a few friends via Gchat. People always say you'll never ever forget/lose touch with some of the people you meet in college. I begin to understand why.

8:28am -- I eat a Bartlett pear and a bowl of Frosties for breakfast. I decide that Frosties are not as good as Frosted Flakes. I tell myself that they're exactly the same thing, just with different names. I, however, also then convince myself that it really just isn't the same. I debate whether or not to take a permanent marker, cross out "Frosties" and write "Frosted Flakes" to ameliorate the situation. But as I'm doing this, my housemate Lauren McSporran walks in...I feel a bit sheepish and immediately hide the marker in my sweatshirt pocket.

9:07am -- I turn the television on, only to be greeted by an Australian news story concerning a controversial San Francisco start-up called Unvarnished that supposedly allows people to bash their former employers, employees, etc. without any sort of censor. It peaks my interest, but as an interview with founder Peter Kazanjy commences, a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge appears behind him. A San Francisco montage ensues. I mean, really??

10:32am -- After playing with Winnie for a bit, I decide to watch an episode of West Wing. This I immediately regret as soon as the billowing American flag appears during the opening credits. The patriotic music doesn't help either. With the mention of President Bartlett, I instantly crave another Bartlett pear. Unfortunately, when I go into the kitchen, I see my box of Frosties again sitting on the counter (they're really just not the same...).

12:15pm -- Two episodes later I pry myself off of the couch. I go upstairs to change out of my pj's and into something for work. I feel a bit down as I decide between my one green shirt and one peach-colored shirt. Sure, there's nothing like living out of a backpack, but a girl could use a few options every once in a while.

1:30pm -- Walk to the bus stop. Put my iPod on shuffle. "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay," followed by "Born in the USA." I'm not kidding.


To summarize, I love and miss everyone. See you guys in THREE MONTHS!

Happy Easter!

In honor of this special day, I have finally, per your many requests, uploaded pics of our newest housemate:

Winnie!

in her favorite corner

all harnessed up and ready for her first walk to Jubilee Park

at first brian was all "she doesn't make noise and poops a lot," but i know she's growing on him

Note: I realize that this post makes me look like one of those people. I am not. I will never dress my rabbit up in sweaters or decorate my room with ceramic bunnies.

Hostel Musings

The internet is down. Well, not my internet (thank god, because that would be a travesty), but the internet connecting the four computers everyone else has to use.

Unfortunately, it's Easter Weekend, and for some reason Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday are all public holidays. Weird, I know, but also kind of sad, since it means our computer go-to guy (his name is Dave, in case you were wondering) is unavailable.

Even more unfortunate for me is the fact that none of our guests seem to happily appreciate it when I tell them: "The internet is down for the weekend! BUT this means you get to hang out on the beach and not sit in front of Facebook for the next few days!!"...

...People are so not amused these days.

Hostel Musings

I don't like to complain. Really, I don't. But enough is enough. Australian radio is the bane of my existence. It's--gasp--worse than American radio. The repetition might kill me. The radio at Noah's is always tuned to the same channel by popular demand, and I'm not allowed to a) switch it, or b) turn it off.

At first it was cute. I was all "omg I hear the song 'Tik Tok' allllll the time." Now, however, every time I hear a clock ticking I'm tempted to smash it against the nearest wall. I'm permanently haunted by teeny-bopper artists such as Ke$ha and the pre-pubescent Justin Bieber. I don't even know why people like Justin Bieber anyway. He's, like, 4. And his singing makes me cringe the same way I used to cringe whenever there were camera close-ups of AJ Mclean and Howie during Backstreet Boys music videos.

Admittedly, I have a few favorites. Owl City's "Fireflies" or Passion Pit's "Little Secrets" never fail to make me feel like I'm listening to what I think a rainbow with unicorns and butterflies leaping and fluttering repeatedly over and around it might sound like. They make me happy--so much so, I often encourage my customers to approach me only when either of these two songs is playing. (Note: I also kind of love "I Like That" by Richard Vission & Static Revenger. There's something about the lyrics "I like the Gucci Gucci, I love the dollar bill, I love your pocket rocket, We live to shock it shock it" that really speaks to me...Or it just makes me want to dance all crazy-like. Same thing.)

Other than that, the rest of Australia's "hip" five-song musical repertoire just doesn't quite cut it. While I even kind of liked Jason Derulo for a bit, he was quickly black-listed upon the 123019238th replay of his latest single "In My Head." No, Jason, your song is in my head, for which I don't think I'll ever quite be able to forgive you.